


stars reflecting off your eyes

by saiditallbefore



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Child Acquisition, Canon-Typical Violence, Contemplation, Crimson Dawn (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Qi'ra, Gen, Post-Solo: A Star Wars Story, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, The Force, accidental parenthood as a way of confronting past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27929617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/pseuds/saiditallbefore
Summary: Qi’ra was getting too old for this shit.  If she had been smart, she would have changed her name, taken her clothes and money, and retired to a pleasure planet years ago.or,Qi'ra crashes on Jakku, and returns to Crimson Dawn with a protégé.
Relationships: Qi'ra & Rey (Star Wars)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19
Collections: Heart Attack Exchange 2020





	stars reflecting off your eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ambiguously](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/gifts).



> I saw your prompt and additional notes for accidental child acquisition, and this spun out from that. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> The title comes from "Set Apart This Dream" from Flyleaf.

Qi’ra was getting too old for this shit. If she had been smart, she would have changed her name, taken her clothes and money, and retired to a pleasure planet years ago. Several of her old compatriots had already done the same.

Ugh. She was bored just thinking about it.

This errand was supposed to be simple: meet with a dealer claiming to have an old Sith holocron and come to some kind of agreement. Qi’ra had left the most competent of her underlings in charge, and flown to the rendezvous point in the Western Reaches by herself.

She trusted most of her lieutenants with Crimson Dawn’s usual business, but there was no need to tempt them with more power. Better if she was the only one in the gang with any understanding of the Force.

But this had proven to be a mistake. Apparently there was no Sith holocron— or if there was, it was long gone. Instead, Qi’ra— and anyone else trying to get their hands on that holocron— was greeted by a contingent of Republic troops. It had been a trap; part of the New Republic’s continued crackdown on anything associated with the Sith.

Qi’ra had gotten out of there as soon as she’d realized what was happening, but one of the ships at the ambush had given chase, and she hadn’t been able to shake it.

The ship chasing her fired again, and she swerved suddenly to the left, almost sending herself into a spin. 

This was why Qi’ra usually didn’t fly her own ships— she was a _terrible_ pilot. She never even attempted to fly the larger cruisers that Crimson Dawn conducted business on, and she could only just manage one-seaters like the one she was currently in. She relied on her grasp of the Force to compensate for her shortcomings— and it usually worked, because on the rare occasions that she flew, Qi’ra wasn’t usually in the middle of a firefight.

She was nearing a planet. She didn’t know which one, but it didn’t particularly matter; Qi’ra knew she would have a much higher chance of survival on the ground, rather than in space. But as she descended into the atmosphere, the ship chasing her shot again, and this time it clipped her.

Her little ship went into a spin. Qi’ra tried to concentrate, to pull it back into balance, but she wasn’t quite strong enough for that. Instead, she focused on pulling up out of a nosedive so she didn’t crash _too_ badly.

It worked. Kind of. She was grateful that none of her subordinates were around to have seen that.

Qi’ra wiped a trickle of blood from her temple, where she’d hit her head in the crash. She was undoubtedly bruised everywhere, but she didn’t seem to be seriously injured. It took her a few minutes— she wasn’t as young as she used to be— but she mustered up the energy to climb out of the ship and take stock of her surroundings.

It was desert, as far as the eye could see. Desert, broken up only by the skeletons of crashed starships, slowly sinking into the sand.

Qi’ra leaned back inside of her ship. She checked her reflection in the viewscreen and smoothed down her hair, then she turned on her holocomm, calling the _Daybreak_.

“Boss?”

The holocomm flickered a bit, but Qi’ra could make out the face of Enric Thorn, a young man she’d recruited from under the nose of a rival gang a few years back. He was more clever than he let on, but he balanced it with a refreshing lack of ambition. Qi’ra liked him, though she’d never tell him that.

“I ran into some trouble,” Qi’ra said. “My ship was shot down. Can you get a fix on my location?”

“Sure thing, boss,” Enric said. He pressed a few keys and seemed to be waiting for the information to load. Qi’ra suppressed the urge to tap her fingers in impatience.

Enric frowned. “Jakku?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Qi’ra asked. 

“Ah— telling?” He winced. “Telling, definitely telling. I’ve just never heard of it, that’s all. Apparently it’s a desert planet?”

Qi’ra glanced at her barren surroundings. “I could have told you that.”

Enric laughed nervously. “Right, right. Just— we’ll have an extraction team at your location in no time.”

“Of course.” Qi’ra turned the holocomm off. Just a few hours, and she’d be off this planet.

* * *

This perfectly reasonable plan fell apart as soon as night fell. 

For one thing, it was surprisingly cold once the sun had set. Qi’ra had discarded her fur cloak inside the cockpit earlier, but now she pulled it close around herself. 

It had been a few years since she’d slept rough— Maul’s training methods had been harsh, and there had been her childhood on Corellia before that— but she’d resigned herself to it. Like most things, it was survivable.

Then, the noises started. A chorus of cacophonous howls, seeming to come from everywhere at once, had Qi’ra reaching for the blaster she’d stashed under the cockpit seat. 

When she turned back around, she saw a large insect, about the size of her forearm, burrowing out of the sand. It had six legs, a shiny exoskeleton, and incredibly sharp-looking mandibles, and it seemed to be one of the things that was howling.

Qi’ra shot it, but another crawled out of the sand. She shot that one, too, but it was followed by another— and then another, and another. She scrambled on top of her downed ship. If she was lucky, the creatures wouldn’t be able to climb. At the very least, it might slow them down.

A few of the creatures began to skitter up the ship. Qi’ra shot them, but there were still more coming.

For a brief moment, she wondered if this would be her inglorious end: devoured by insects in the middle of a desert wasteland.

Before she could come up with another plan, her thoughts were interrupted by the roar of a speederbike. It cut through the insects and pulled up alongside Qi’ra’s ship.

The driver was a short, humanoid figure, wearing a mask and covered head-to-toe. Behind the bike, it was dragging a sledge stacked high with metal parts.

The figure chittered at Qi’ra in a language she didn’t understand, but its gesture was clear: it was telling her to come with it. 

The help seemed too good to be true, but Qi’ra still didn’t hesitate. She tucked her blaster into her waistband and hopped behind the mysterious stranger, allowing it to speed her away. 

* * *

The stranger finally stopped when they reached a small settlement. It seemed to consist almost entirely of impermanent structures, with a few old cargo crawlers and ships converted into buildings. Qi’ra climbed off of the speederbike, and watched as her rescuer unhooked its sledge in front of one of the handful of semi-permanent buildings.

The stranger said something else to her. Qi’ra wasn’t sure what it said, but experience told her that it was better to be polite to strange beings with the power to kill her— at least, until she could get the upper hand.

“Thank you,” she said.

The stranger waved a hand at her, and said something else. Qi’ra didn’t understand, of course, but she imagined that it wasn’t very impressed with her. Frankly, she wouldn’t have been very impressed with herself, either.

Qi’ra wandered away from the figure and found a somewhat sheltered spot to sit near one of the other semi-permanent buildings. She was out of the wind there, and she’d be able to see anyone who approached.

Her extraction team would be using the locator beacon on her ship to find her. Qi’ra had no idea how far she’d traveled, and only a vague idea of which direction she’d come from. She wouldn’t be able to find her ship again, but surely this settlement had some kind of comm— she’d be able to contact the _Daybreak_ from there and update them on her location.

This was the plan in Qi’ra’s mind, as the sun rose and people began to stir around the settlement. She watched in interest as people rolled the sides of their tents up and set out wares for trade, and as the stranger that had rescued her traded the metal parts it had brought along for some amount of rations.

So that was the way of things here: bartering and survival rations. She could work with that.

Qi’ra pulled her cloak off, carrying it over her arm, and strode toward the trading post. It was being run by a Crolute— uncommon, so far from Crul, and unheard of in a _desert_ of all places. 

“Who do I have to speak to in order to use a working comm?” she asked.

The Crolute gave her a considering look. “You came to the right place,” he said. “Unkar Plutt. Welcome to Niima Outpost.” He spread his arms, baring his teeth in the semblance of a grin.

“Charmed.” Qi’ra did not smile back at him. “About that comm?”

“I can help you with that,” Plutt said. “For a price.”

Qi’ra held up her fur cloak and raised an eyebrow. She hated to give it up, but clothes were replaceable. “What will this get me?”

Plutt ran an edge of the cloak between his fingers, feeling the quality. Qi’ra doubted he even knew what he was checking for. More likely, he was stalling, trying to decide if he could bilk her for more.

“Two portions of rations and I’ll get you to the nearest comm tomorrow.”

“That’s—” Qi’ra began.

“That’s the earliest I can do,” he said. “Take it or leave it.”

Qi’ra gritted her teeth. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll take it.”

* * *

Qi’ra nibbled slowly on the second half of the first of her two portions of rations. She was saving her second portion for the next day, since she didn’t know when Plutt would be bothered to deal with her.

She’d spent most of the day ignoring suspicious looks from the locals and attempting to find some shelter from the blistering heat. 

Niima Outpost was apparently even more boring than it had appeared at first glance. There was little trade, fewer visitors, and Unkar Plutt seemed to run the whole sorry place.

Qi’ra would be glad to see the last of it.

Near the end of the day, Qi’ra noticed people coming back from the desert, hauling parts and pieces that appeared to come from old spaceship wrecks. They lined up at Plutt’s building, and she watched as they traded their parts in for rations.

All these shitholes were the same, in the end.

Qi’ra did her best to ignore them. It worked— until someone tripped near her, dropping a metal part on her foot.

She swore, and looked around for the culprit. 

It was a child: human, with tangled brown hair and sun-browned skin, scrambling to her knees in the sand. She fought to pick up the part that had landed on Qi’ra’s foot— an engine component of some kind that seemed to be almost as big as the child was. Frankly, it looked so heavy that Qi’ra was surprised it hadn’t _broken_ her foot.

“I’m sorry,” the girl said. “It just slipped.”

“Are you taking that to Plutt?” Qi’ra asked.

The girl hesitated, then nodded.

“Let me help you with that,” Qi’ra said. 

Qi’ra didn’t know why she offered. No one had ever accused her of being _kind_. But she’d never seen a point in being needlessly cruel to a child.

The girl raised her chin. “It’s _mine_.” 

Qi’ra suddenly understood. She was afraid that Qi’ra would take the share of rations she’d earned. How many times had Qi’ra, as a child, worried about the same thing?

“I know it is,” Qi’ra said. “I have my own.” She showed the girl the ration she’d tucked away. 

“Okay,” the girl finally said. She still insisted on helping to carry the engine component, and, despite herself, Qi’ra couldn’t help but admire her resolve. This meant that they moved slowly and awkwardly, but it wasn’t as though Qi’ra had anywhere else to be.

“I’m Rey,” the girl finally said.

“Qi’ra.”

* * *

Qi’ra left Rey behind at Plutt’s. The girl seemed to know how to look after herself.

She expected that to be the end of it.

Qi’ra had found a relatively sheltered spot, and was half-dozing. She wouldn’t be able to truly sleep until she was safely back on her own ship, but she’d barely rested in over a full day.

She startled awake at the touch of a very small hand on her shoulder.

Rey was standing over her, peering down at her in concern.

“You should get inside,” she said. “There’s gonna be a sandstorm.”

Qi’ra looked around. The sky was clear, and the wind didn’t seem any better or worse than it had been for the rest of the day. No one else seemed to be heading for shelter. “How can you tell?”

Rey shrugged. “I just know things, sometimes.” She seemed to size up Qi’ra for a moment, then said, “You can come with me, if you want.”

Qi’ra stood, brushing the sand from her clothes. At this rate, she’d never be fully rid of it. “Lead the way.”

Rey led Qi’ra to the wreckage of an old AT-AT walker. 

“Does anyone else stay here with you?” Qi’ra asked. She knew better than to ask about parents.

Rey shook her head, sending her hair everywhere. “But that’s okay!” she added quickly. “I can look after myself! And the other scavengers check on me!”

She looked a little small for that to be true, but Qi’ra wasn’t a judge of the capabilities of small children. And if Rey really did ‘know’ things, as she said, 

The AT-AT walker looked much like Qi’ra had expected inside: leftover rations, a few beat-up toys, and some bits and bobs that Qi’ra couldn’t recognize, but that Rey must have collected. She settled against one of the walls and closed her eyes, falling once again into a half-doze.

Qi’ra was woken up again by the howling of the wind and the rattling of the AT-AT. She opened her eyes, blinking as her vision adjusted to the dim light. Sand blew in through the cracks in the structure, and Rey was curled up in another corner.

Qi’ra felt, vaguely, that she should comfort the girl. That was probably what a responsible adult would do. 

But she didn’t know how to do that. Instead, she cast around for some topic of conversation, and remembered something intriguing that Rey had said earlier.

“You knew the storm was coming,” Qi’ra said. “Do you know a lot of things like that?”

Rey frowned. “I guess. Sometimes I know when the big wrecks are gonna fall, too.”

If the girl wasn’t Force-sensitive, Qi’ra would retire from Crimson Dawn. No one had an intuition that good naturally. Even _Qi’ra’s_ intuition wasn’t that good, and she’d been trained.

It made her wonder what the girl would be capable when she was older.

“And then Teedo grabbed it right out from under her nose like bam!” Rey said. Qi’ra realized that while she had been thinking, Rey had been babbling.

Well, she certainly knew how to listen— or at least how to pretend. “And then what happened?” Qi’ra asked, just as sweetly as she would ask any diplomat.

* * *

By the time the sun came up, the storm had broken. She and Rey stepped out of the old AT-AT into the bright sunlight.

Rey looked at Qi’ra, then away, like she was considering saying something. Then she said, “You can stay with me again, if you want.”

“I’m not coming back,” Qi’ra said. 

Rey looked absolutely crushed, for some reason that Qi’ra couldn’t fathom. But she still rushed to correct whatever the girl’s misunderstanding was.

“My ship crashed here yesterday,” Qi’ra explained. “I’ll be leaving today.” And then she looked at the little girl— all alone, and so full of potential— and she made her most impulsive decision in years.

“Would you like to come with me?” 

“I have to wait for my parents,” Rey said. 

“How long have you been waiting for them?” Qi’ra asked gently.

Rey scrambled back into the AT-AT. After a moment, Qi’ra followed her. She found Rey looking at a panel that had been scratched full of tally marks.

“This many days,” Rey said.

Qi’ra wasn’t quite insensitive enough to tell her that her parents weren’t coming back. That they’d left her here to fend for herself. 

“I’ll leave a message,” Qi’ra said. “And then anyone who comes looking for you will know where you’ve gone.”

Rey bit her lip. “Okay,” she finally said.

It was just a matter of time, after that. Qi’ra carved a Crimson Dawn symbol into the wall of the AT-AT walker, then walked with Rey toward Unkar Plutt’s. 

* * *

Qi'ra knew what people whispered about her— that she was cruel, capricious, vain. That she had single-mindedly climbed the ranks of Crimson Dawn, leaving a trail of blood behind her. 

It was all true, of course.

So when she stepped onto the transport that had been sent for her with a small child in tow, the surprise from her subordinates was entirely understandable.

They could have done a better job of covering it up, though. If this was how a skeleton crew reacted, Qi’ra couldn’t imagine the headache everyone else would give her.

“Enough staring,” Qi’ra told the crew. “Back to your stations. I want off of this planet _yesterday_.”

The transport wasn’t very large, by Qi’ra’s standards: there was room enough for a handful of people, but it was small enough that they were all forced into the cockpit together. 

Qi’ra had spent the last three decades or so criss-crossing the galaxy, and she’d long-since ceased to be impressed by a simple takeoff. But Rey’s eyes were wide, watching the viewscreen as Jakku’s atmosphere gave way to the black of space.

Qi’ra had been older when she’d left Corellia, and her circumstances had been far different. Worse. But something in Rey’s expression still reminded Qi’ra uncomfortably of herself, when she’d first seen the vastness of space stretching out in front of her.

* * *

Qi’ra could hear the murmurs as she passed by. But no one was brave enough to ask the question to her face until she and Rey reached the control center, where her lieutenants were waiting for her.

The control center was the heart of the _Daybreak_ : from here, Qi’ra could keep an eye on every area of the ship from the array of computers. A viewscreen that took up an entire wall looked out into space, and one of the dozens of weapons stations on the ship was located right there.

And it was where her most highly ranked lieutenants— Trinna Terrix, Enric Thorn, and Hyrran Chance— had gathered, waiting for Qi’ra’s return.

It was amusing, watching them attempt to keep a straight face when they spotted Rey.

“Is that a child?” It was Trinna who asked. She was one of Qi’ra’s favorite enforcers, and blunt to a fault. Qi’ra would probably worry about Trinna stabbing her in the back and taking over the operation— if she thought Trinna had any subtlety. 

“What do you think?” Qi’ra asked. 

“Why?” Trinna asked.

Qi’ra opened her mouth, then closed it again. She wasn’t quite sure how to explain— after all, no one here quite knew about her exploration of the Force.

Perhaps she hadn’t quite thought this through. Maybe she’d hit her head harder than she’d thought when she crashed, or she’d suffered a bout of heatstroke, or she’d just been exhausted. 

“She’s my new protégé,” Qi’ra finally said. The blank faces of her underlings staring back at her told her that no one quite believed her, but none of them argued with her.

“Come along, Rey,” she added. Rey scrambled out from under a console— when had she crawled under there? Why had she crawled under there? Was that normal?

Qi’ra fought the urge to rub at her temples, and led Rey to the lift. 

“You’ll be staying in my quarters, at least for now,” Qi’ra told her. There was plenty of room on the _Daybreak_ for a small child, but Qi’ra didn’t want to lose track of her— or to entrust her to a crewmember she didn’t know particularly well. Qi’ra’s quarters would be more than sufficient.

* * *

It took a day or so for things to quiet down, now that Qi’ra had returned. Even once she’d bathed and eaten and rested, she had Crimson Dawn business to attend to. 

But finally, she had a few spare hours, and it was time to make a plan for what to do with Rey.

Qi’ra locked herself into her workroom— a small room just off of her bedroom, with only workbench and chair furnishing it. Containers of wire and jewels and polished rocks lined the walls, ready for her next project. It was quiet there, and her crew knew better than to disturb her while she was working.

She cut a long length of wire, and began to wrap it around itself, letting her mind wander. Maul had always emphasized the importance of meditation. It was a Jedi concept, more than a Sith one, but Maul had claimed that it would allow her to connect more closely with the Force. To see paths forward where there had been none.

It had all seemed a bit ridiculous to Qi’ra, who never placed much stock in the mystical side of things. Her study of the Force was almost entirely practical: moving things, performing mind tricks, perfecting her fighting technique.

But here in her workshop, whenever she brought out her wire and jewels and began to work on a piece, she thought she understood a little of what he’d been talking about. Her mind cleared, and her decisions became more obvious, as if something were guiding her there. Even if there was nothing mystical about it at all, the ritual centered her.

The wire had slowly begun to take shape in her hands. She bent it slightly, then began to coil it against itself.

What was she going to do about Rey? So far, she’d mostly left the girl alone: besides cleaning her up and giving her food and a room, Qi’ra hadn’t done much. 

She intended to pass on her limited knowledge of the Force. That was certainly something— more than Rey would have had on Jakku. But she couldn’t leave a child alone on a day-to-day basis, and she was already an incredibly busy woman. 

The solution was incredibly obvious, when she thought about it. Surely some member of Crimson Dawn had knowledge of children. Qi’ra would have to screen them carefully, of course, but she was sure that _someone_ would leap at the apparent promotion. 

Satisfied with this solution, she set her mind to thinking of a way to deal with the Republic’s increased patrols of trade routes, as her hands continued to bend the wire into shape.

* * *

Qi’ra stared at Rey. Rey stared back at Qi’ra.

“What are we doing?” Rey asked.

They were sitting on a thick, soft rug in Qi’ra’s dressing room, surrounded by her mirrors and dresses and cloaks. 

“I’m going to teach you how to use the Force,” Qi’ra said.

Rey did not appear to be particularly impressed. “What’s that?”

Right. Qi’ra supposed she ought to find a better way to explain. “Do you remember when you told me that you know things, sometimes? Well, I know things, too, sometimes. And I want to help you learn to do that better.”

Rey perked up. “What do I have to do?” 

“Close your eyes,” Qi’ra said. “Now breathe in… and then out.” Qi’ra might have scoffed at traditional meditation, but it was occasionally helpful. “Now, I want you to concentrate, and tell me what you notice.”

Rey screwed her face up. Qi’ra considered telling her that that wasn’t a vital part of concentration, but why bother?

Qi’ra slipped one of her half-dozen bracelets off and held it in her hands. It was one of the ones she’d made herself: a circle of purple beads, with fine silver wire wound intricately around each bead. Then she focused on it, pushing it up into the air.

“I don’t—” Rey began, then gasped. “Oh! Something happened!”

“Open your eyes.” 

Rey gasped again when she saw the bracelet floating in mid-air. Qi’ra couldn’t help but smile, just a little. She rarely used the Force in front of someone she wasn’t about to kill, and it was gratifying to have even this little party trick appreciated.

“Am I gonna be able to do that?” Rey asked.

Qi’ra dropped the bracelet back into her hands. “With some practice.” She handed the bracelet to Rey. “Think about what it felt like when I held it up and try to do the same thing.”

Rey nodded, a serious expression on her face.

* * *

Qi’ra skimmed through Crimson Dawn’s financial reports. She had people to do this for her, of course, but she always took another look; better to keep people on their toes that way. She was interrupted by a quiet knock at the door. 

She pressed a button on her desk and the door opened. Much more dignified than telling people to enter— and it always seemed to intimidate people, for some reason. Really, the technology was simple.

“You called for me?” 

The speaker was a young woman, unremarkable looking, wringing her hands together. Seela Teff, a low-level communications specialist with a spotless record— or at least, a record spotless of anything that Qi’ra cared about. Qi’ra had never interacted with her directly before, and she was no doubt wondering what had brought her to the boss’s attention.

Qi’ra slid her holopad away and folded her hands together. “I understand you have experience dealing with children?”

Seela blinked. “I’ve looked after my nieces and nephews before?”

“I have acquired a child, and it has come to my attention that she will need someone to look after her.” Qi’ra laid out the facts for Seela.

“You have— I’m sorry, you want _me_ to—” Seela seemed lost for words. 

“I will double your pay,” Qi’ra said. 

“When do I start?” Seela asked. 

Qi’ra smirked. People were so much simpler than they liked to give themselves credit for, and she had yet to meet the being that wasn’t motivated by money.

She pressed another button on her desk. “Send Rey into my office.”

A few moments later, the girl came barrelling through the doorway, almost running right into Seela. She already looked better than she had back on Jakku: she’d been bathed and her hair had been brushed. Qi’ra had yet to find clothes in Rey’s size, but for now they were making due with one of Qi’ra’s old tops, belted around Rey like an oversized dress. She wore the bracelet that Qi’ra had given to her, despite the fact that it was far too large for her wrist.

Qi’ra tried not to let on how endearing she found the sight.

“Qi’ra!” Rey exclaimed. “Are we gonna practice again?”

“Not today,” Qi’ra replied. “I want you to meet Seela. She’s going to look after you when I am unavailable.”

“You’re _leaving_ me?” Rey’s face was twisted up, and Qi’ra realized that she was trying not to cry. 

Qi’ra suddenly remembered that Rey’s parents had abandoned her on that sithforsaken planet. Perhaps she should have been a bit more gentle. 

“No one is leaving,” Qi’ra said, crouching down so that she could look Rey in the eyes. “But I am quite busy running Crimson Dawn. Seela will stay with you when and ensure that you are taken care of.”

Rey suddenly flung herself into Qi’ra’s arms. It threw her off-guard; it had been a long time since anyone had dared to hug her. She patted Rey’s back gently, then disentangled herself. 

“I expect you to continue your practice,” Qi’ra said, tapping on Rey’s bracelet. “We’ll be continuing our training.”

Rey nodded enthusiastically, all trace of approaching tears gone. “I will! I promise!”

Qi’ra straightened her clothes and settled back into her chair. She turned her attention to Seela, who looked faintly amused.

“She’s all yours,” Qi’ra said.

* * *

Qi’ra tapped the invitation with her fingernail. It had been printed on actual paper; a ridiculous show of luxury.

She might have to borrow that trick in the future.

The more pressing issue was the event that she’d been invited _to_. Supposedly, it was to celebrate the birthday of one of the granddaughters of the Prime Minister of Illyam, but if Qi’ra had been invited, she could only assume that the party was a front. Or at least an excuse.

It would be perfect for Rey’s first outing. The venue would be child-friendly, it was unlikely to devolve into unnecessary violence, and it would be an excellent educational opportunity. 

Rey had seemed excited, too, when Qi’ra had told her they would be taking a trip; Rey hadn’t been off the _Daybreak_ since she’d been brought onboard a few months before. 

She dressed Rey in a version of her own outfit: black pants, a purple top, and a hooded silver cloak over the top. Qi’ra’s version was more daring, of course, with heels on her boots and just a hint of cleavage showing.

Rey seemed particularly intrigued by the shininess of the cloak, and Qi’ra couldn’t blame her. After all, the reason she bought beautiful clothes was because she liked the look and the feel of them— as well as the way that they conferred status. 

Seela seemed to think it was amusing that they matched, but Qi’ra didn’t see the joke; she had chosen the outfits to send a message. Rey was her protégé, and she was just as untouchable as Qi’ra.

Their descent to Illyam was uneventful, except for Rey’s excitement as she watched them approach marbled green planet. They landed in a small spaceport, and were quickly escorted to the Prime Minister’s residence. There was a brief stop outside of the gates where their invitations were checked against the official list.

Qi’ra handed the invitation to the guard on duty. “Commander Qi’ra,” she told him. He must not have recognized the name, or perhaps he simply knew what to expect, because he simply waved her and Rey through. A pity; Qi’ra got a lot of joy out of subverting the expectations people had for her.

When she was younger, she’d been underestimated because she was a beautiful woman. Now that she was older, she was underestimated because she was an old woman who cared too much about beauty. 

She’d learned not to let it bother her. Those who underestimated her never expected her knife in their backs.

“There’s so much green,” Rey said, as she looked around at the Prime Minister’s estate. 

Qi’ra supposed it was rather impressive, if you’d come from a desert planet. It _was_ rather lavish, with gardens stretching everywhere. 

“Qi’ra,” a familiar, grating voice called. Qi’ra pasted on her company smile and spun around.

“Prime Minister Dymos,” she said. “You look well.”

He laughed at the polite lie. “None of us can compete with you on that front.” Then he seemed to notice Rey. “You brought your daughter!”

That word made Qi’ra feel odd. She’d never felt herself to be a particularly maternal person.

“She’s not my—” Qi’ra began.

Dymos interrupted her. “My granddaughter, Kana, is still inside. We’ll have to introduce them once the festivities start.” He hooked one of his arm through Qi’ra’s and began walking toward the manor; Qi’ra had to hurry to keep up with him. She took Rey by the hand, just to make sure that she wouldn’t get left behind.

The party itself was standard fare: Qi’ra mingled closely with a mix of shady politicians and other gang leaders. There was a steady tension in the air: everyone was trying to strike up a deal or find a new angle, while all being heavily armed and ready to turn on each other on a moment’s notice.

Qi’ra normally loved it. She loved the challenge of charming her allies and enemies alike, and the threat of violence and chaos breaking out at any moment— even if the threat of violence was a bit more under control than usual, thanks to the presence of children.

For some reason, it was a bit harder to concentrate this time, though. Qi’ra’s attention kept wandering in the middle of conversations as she searched for Rey, who had been let loose to socialize with the other children.

She was certain that Rey was in little danger here, and yet she was still… _concerned_. Not worried. 

There was no reason for her to worry. She barely knew Rey, and the girl had been basically self-sufficient before Qi’ra had met her. Surely Rey could handle herself for the duration of a birthday party.

A yell sounded from further into the garden, interrupting the conversation Qi’ra had been half-listening to about taxation. Qi’ra whirled around, only to see Rey running through the plants, leading a handful of children behind her. They were all splattered wildly with mud, and seemed to be playing some sort of game.

“Doesn’t that one belong to you?” Dymos asked.

“Rey is my protégé, yes,” Qi’ra said. She watched as Rey organized several of the children into some sort of order, and then lead them into another wild chase. “She’s already shaping up to be quite the leader, don’t you think?”

For some reason, no one had any answer for her.

* * *

Qi’ra took a deep breath. The air on Skilia X was clear, and this area was entirely unoccupied— exactly as it had been all those years ago when Dryden Vos had brought her here. She’d been much older than Rey, of course, and she’d known a bit about how to use a blaster already, but Vos had insisted on teaching her more.

It was one of the few memories of him that wasn’t tainted. 

“What are we doing here?” Rey asked.

Qi’ra wrenched her thoughts back to the present. “I’m going to teach you how to shoot.” Perhaps other people would say Rey was too young, but if Qi’ra had learned anything in her life, it was that one was never too young to learn to defend themselves.

It was the work of a few minutes to set up a few targets on the nearby trees. 

“I want you to watch what I do,” Qi’ra told Rey. She unholstered her blaster and aimed, moving slowly enough that Rey could see how she was holding her hands. Then she pulled the trigger half a dozen times in a row, hitting the nearest target near the center.

“Now I want you to try,” Qi’ra said. 

“Really?” Rey looked surprised, as if she hadn’t expected this. 

“Really,” Qi’ra said. “Come here.” She gently maneuvered Rey into place, and put the blaster into Rey’s small hands.

Too small to hold a blaster, really. Qi’ra wondered if she was doing the right thing. In a kinder world, maybe children wouldn’t need to learn how to fight.

But they didn’t live in that kinder world. Rey had already been left to fend for herself once. The kindest thing Qi’ra could do was teach her how to take care of herself.

She helped Rey move her fingers into the correct places. “Like this,” Qi’ra said. “Remember how it feels.”

She pulled her hands away from Rey’s, and began to talk her through aiming at the target. And finally, through shooting. “Now breathe out, and pull the trigger.”

Rey seemed to be deep in concentration: her eyes were squinted, and her tongue was poking out of the corner of her lips. Something about the sight was deeply endearing to Qi’ra, though she pushed the feeling away as quickly as it came.

Rey did exactly as Qi’ra had instructed: she breathed out and pulled the trigger, before allowing the blaster to point downwards. The blaster shot fired wildly off-target, but at least it was in the right direction.

“I didn’t hit it!” Rey sounded as if she was about to cry.

“Of course you didn’t,” Qi’ra said. “That takes practice.”

“Oh,” Rey said. She frowned, looking down at the blaster. Then she lifted it up again, carefully arranged her fingers _almost_ as Qi’ra had shown her, and aimed.

Qi’ra smiled, fixed Rey’s grip, and watched her try again.

* * *

Qi’ra had always slept lightly. It was a skill that had saved her life on many occasions, from her childhood on Corellia to her servitude under Dryden Vos to her training with Darth Maul to her leadership of Crimson Dawn.

It had been quite some time since someone had attempted to kill Qi’ra in her sleep— she had wanted to give _that_ particular assassin credit for sheer audacity— but she still woke with a start when she heard a noise. She grabbed the laser knife under her pillow and reached out with the Force, hoping to find the intruder.

There was no intruder, though; the only people in the suite were Qi’ra and Rey.

Qi’ra allowed herself to relax, just a bit. She listened for any further odd noises, and then she heard it— a snuffling noise from Rey’s bedroom. 

Qi’ra, still holding the laser knife, slipped into Rey’s bedroom.

There was no one in there except for Rey, curled up in her bed. And then she turned over, whimpering in her sleep, and Qi’ra realized what she’d been hearing.

Rey was having a nightmare.

Qi’ra stood in the doorway, unsure what she was supposed to do. Seela should be sleeping a few levels below; wasn’t this the sort of thing Qi’ra paid _her_ for? Maybe if Qi’ra woke her…

But it seemed ridiculous, somehow, to fetch Seela to help when Qi’ra was right here.

She stepped closer to Rey’s bed, and sat down on the edge. She hesitated for just a moment, then ran her hand through Rey’s hair. 

Qi’ra placed her laser knife on the floor next to the bed. “It’s okay,” she murmured. 

She must have let her guard down, because she fell asleep in that spot, next to Rey, and was only woken when Seela came in to start the day.

And if Seela had any thoughts on seeing the two of them curled up in bed together, she knew enough to keep them to herself.

* * *

“Where is she?” Qi’ra asked. Enric looked at Trinna. Trinna looked at Hyrran. Hyrran looked at Enric. Seela was nowhere to be seen; probably scouring the ship for Rey. 

She had spent most of the last two years doing that, and if Qi’ra didn’t pay her so highly, she would almost feel sorry for her. Rey was difficult to contain.

Qi’ra tapped her foot. The sound echoed ominously around the control center.

Rey burst into the room, followed by Engineer Brangwin. “I’m here! I’m here!”

“ _What_ have you been doing?”

It was a rhetorical question; Qi’ra could see from the grease smeared on her forehead that Rey had been playing in the engines again. She really hadn’t expected her protégé to have such a fondness for mechanics; it wreaked havoc on Rey’s wardrobe, but at least it was a useful skill.

Qi’ra sighed, shaking her head. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

It had been a few years since Qi’ra had brought Rey to live with her. Little of substance in Qi’ra’s life had changed: she still ran Crimson Dawn with an iron fist and killed anyone who crossed her. She made time to give Rey lessons on how to use the Force, and about the inner workings of Crimson Dawn, but those were no hardship at all.

Really, she would have taken on a protégé years ago if she’d known it would be this easy. 

Qi’ra escorted Rey back to their shared quarters. “We’ll have to get you cleaned up right away,” she said. “We’re already running late.”

“Sorry, Qi’ra,” Rey said, not sounding sorry at all. “I forgot.”

Qi’ra sighed, and ruffled one of her perfectly-manicured hands through Rey’s hair. “Don’t worry about it. We’re important enough to wait for— remember that, Rey. When you’re important, you can make people wait. That doesn’t mean you should abuse the privilege, though.”

Rey nodded. “And you’re the _most_ important person, right?”

Qi’ra laughed. “Not quite. But very close.”

It only took a few moments to wipe the engine grease from Rey’s face and hands, and a few more to brush and re-braid her hair. With that done, she helped Rey get dressed in the outfit she’d set out on Rey’s bed earlier: a pair of tight-fitting gray pants and a long blue tunic. She also wore that bracelet that Qi’ra had given her during that first lesson in the Force, despite the fact that it clashed with her outfit, but that was normal; Rey rarely took that off. 

They didn’t match, this time— not precisely. They were wearing the same color palette, though; Qi’ra’s jumpsuit was in a complementary blue and gray. Qi’ra couldn’t help herself; it was such an excellent way to present a united front. Exactly how the two of them should appear when Qi’ra was negotiating a deal.

On this particular trip planetside, their ship was large enough for the two of them to have their own compartment, separate from the cockpit. Qi’ra took immediate advantage of this.

“We have half an hour,” she told Rey. “Show me one of your Force exercises; I don’t care which one.”

Rey sat on the floor, cross-legged. Then she removed her bracelet— the one Qi’ra had given her during that first lesson. She furrowed her brows and stared at it.

Slowly— very slowly— it began to lift into the air. Then, the bracelet began to fly back and forth through the air. She’d been able to do this for some time, but Qi’ra was interested to know how long she could keep it up for. 

It turned out that she could keep it up for nearly the entire half hour. The bracelet clattered to the floor just as they were beginning to land.

“Your focus is improving,” Qi’ra told her, truthfully. It was harder than most people could imagine to use the Force continuously like that. Rey beamed at the rare praise, and hurried across the compartment to pick up her bracelet.

Qi’ra’s own teacher would have told her she was being too soft. That Rey would improve faster if she employed harsher methods. But Qi’ra couldn’t find it in herself to care. She wished for Rey to be strong— a force to be reckoned with in her own right, once she was older. She didn’t want to _break_ the girl, not even for the sake of rebuilding her.

* * *

The meeting could be going worse, Qi’ra supposed.

The sellers had been displeased that she and Rey were late, but Qi’ra had dismissed their concerns. After all, she was the one with most of the power here. The sellers were the Maxas— a big deal on their own planet, but nearly unheard of in the wider galaxy.

The negotiations went slowly. The gang they were dealing with— the only sellers for a particular variety of crystal— were attempting to raise the prices well beyond what was reasonable, but that was only to be expected. Rey had been standing by Qi’ra’s side the whole time, listening attentively— or at least giving the impression of listening.

And then one of the sellers threatened Rey. Before even Qi’ra could react, his arm was around Rey’s neck and his blaster was at her temple. Rey stood frozen, perfectly still.

“Maybe we can come to an agreement now,” he said.

A cold fury washed over Qi’ra. How _dare_ he? Threatening Rey over something so petty?

It was enough to make Qi’ra wish that she regularly carried a lightsaber. Or that she were powerful enough to shoot lightning.

She settled for the next best thing: she disarmed everyone else in the room with a single push of the Force. Then, before they had a chance to react, she threw them against the walls. Rey scrambled to Qi’ra’s side.

“You’ve crossed the line,” Qi’ra said. She unholstered her blaster and shot each of the gangsters in the head.

Rey looked on, wide-eyed. Then she sprinted toward Qi’ra, crashing into her legs and almost bowling Qi’ra over. 

For a moment, Qi’ra thought she had done something horribly wrong. Then she realized that Rey was hugging her tightly.

Rey was a tactile child, but Qi’ra rarely hugged her outright— she tended more toward affectionate hair ruffles or shoulder pats. But on this occasion, Qi’ra didn't hesitate before throwing her arms around Rey and embracing her tightly. It was reassuring to know that she was there— that anyone trying to get to Rey would have to go through Qi’ra, first.

They stood like that for a few long minutes before Rey pulled herself away.

"You aren't hurt, are you?" Qi'ra asked.

Rey shook her head.

"Excellent," Qi'ra said. "Now. I think it's time for you to learn how to engineer a hostile takeover."

Rey’s eyes were bright with interest. "What’s that mean?"

Qi’ra smiled— the exact smile that dozens of beings across the galaxy had seen right before they died. "It means that the Maxas tried to double-cross us, so we're going to take them over and make them part of Crimson Dawn."

* * *

Dealing with the Maxas was simple, in the end. Qi’ra had dealt with half a dozen other gangs in the same way over the years: kill their leaders, threaten to raze them to the ground, and mercifully offer to let them survive if they gave a portion of their profits to Crimson Dawn.

And if they got any ideas _again_ , she'd destroy them completely.

It set an example for anyone who might think she was someone to cross while expanding her business— a tidy solution, if she did say so herself.

She wasn't quite sure that Rey grasped all of the interpersonal implications yet, but no matter. That understanding would come with time.

After all, Qi’ra reflected, as she sat in her dressing room and brushed out Rey’s hair, Rey was quite bright for someone who had only just learned to read.

She listened quietly as Rey struggled through the story she'd apparently read with Seela earlier that day— some kind of tripe about a boy and a droid going on an adventure. Qi'ra couldn't think of anything more inane, but Rey seemed to enjoy it well enough, and literacy should be encouraged.

Besides, it kept Rey still— something incredibly rare for the active girl.

Taking the opportunity, Qi’ra set the hairbrush to the side and ran her fingers through Rey’s hair, separating it into pieces. She deftly twisted the hair around itself.

Rey paused in her reading, and started to turn toward Qi'ra. 

"Quit wiggling," Qi'ra told her, tapping the top of Rey’s head.

"Are we going somewhere?" Rey asked.

Qi'ra supposed she could see how Rey would come to that conclusion; she rarely bothered to do Rey’s hair in any fashion except a simple braid unless it was for an outing.

"Not this time," Qi'ra said. "I don't believe you need an excuse to look nice." She tapped Rey’s head again. "Now get back to reading."

As Rey continued her slow, halting reading, Qi’ra created an elaborate series of braids cascading down Rey’s back. Just as Rey finished the story, Qi’ra tied them off.

"There," Qi'ra said. "You look lovely."

"Did you like my story?" Rey asked. 

Qi’ra hadn't, of course, but Rey was looking at her so hopefully that she didn't want to say that. "I think you did an excellent job reading it," Qi'ra said. 

The smile Rey gave her told her that it had been the right answer.

* * *

Qi'ra sat in her workshop, looking around at all of her supplies. Rey was extremely attached to the bracelet Qi’ra had given her, though she was often indifferent to other, more luxurious accessories. 

Nothing she had in the workshop— despite her ridiculous amount of supplies— seemed quite right for Rey. But what _would_ be right?

Qi’ra cleared her mind, falling into a kind of meditative state. She thought of Rey, who spent all her free time harassing the engineers to teach her mechanics. Who was shaping up to be a prodigy with the Force. Who was a decent shot with a blaster, despite her age.

Who was still brilliant and kind and happy, despite everything life had thrown at her. 

Qi’ra reached for a length of gold wire and began to coil it against itself. 

She would have to temper some of that kindness. Continue to teach her how to tell which sort of people were worth trusting and which should be discarded. 

She didn't want to see Rey discarded or taken advantage of, as so many people would be quick to do. As Qi’ra had been, before she'd grown a hard shell around herself and learned to fight back.

Qi’ra continued to wind the gold wire around itself, letting her hands— and a touch of the Force— supply the pattern. She had an idea of how it was going to look now, but that could change on a whim. 

She’d sometimes wondered if she should feel guilty for using the Force for such a petty task. Wasn't it supposed to be all-powerful— the kind of thing that was meant to build and topple empires? She was certain that any serious Force user— Sith _or_ Jedi— would think that she was frivolous. 

But despite all of Maul’s training, Qi’ra wasn't a Sith. Not really. And she liked to think she'd earned a bit of frivolity. 

Qi’ra chose a polished white stone from her supplies. She had dozens of them, but the one she chose was about the size of her smallest fingernail, and almost triangular in shape. She carefully began winding the wire around it, criss-crossing in an appealing pattern. 

She let her mind wander farther, thinking of her lieutenants. There had been some difficulties with them lately; tensions between Enric and Trinna and Enric and Hyrran had been strangely high. Qi’ra didn’t dwell too much on the cause; if her experience told her anything, it was likely some sort of romantic drama. Qi’ra had no desire to involve herself in any of that. But whatever the problem was, it was spilling over into their work: Enric had been slow to carry out orders, as well as sniping with Trinna and Hyrran whenever he thought Qi’ra wasn't listening. 

It was a concerning development. Qi’ra had hand-picked Enric; she would hate if he began to cause real problems for her.

Qi'ra attached the newly-made pendant to the wire she had coiled around itself— now in the shape of a necklace— and held it up to the light. It was light and delicate: gold wirework setting the white pendant off to best advantage. All that was left was to attach a set of clasps to it, and she could give it to Rey.

* * *

As always, Qi’ra and Rey sat on the floor of Qi’ra’s dressing room for Rey’s lessons in the Force. There were probably better places for this— places with more room, where they didn’t have to sit on the floor. But Qi’ra liked meeting in her dressing room, with its quiet intimacy.

And she liked watching Rey’s intense focus, her dedication to learning. At this rate, Rey’s abilities in the Force were going to progress beyond Qi’ra’s ability to teach ahead of schedule. 

Sure, Qi’ra had learned quickly. But she’d never gained any true mastery of the Force— and not just because her teacher had found other things to do. She’d learned enough to give herself a new weapon in her arsenal, but she’d never been interested in the Force for its own sake.

Perhaps that had been a mistake. If so, it was hardly the only one she had ever made.

Still, as Qi’ra was watching Rey practice her basic exercises, she realized that the girl was coming close to mastering them. 

Rey opened her eyes. “Is something wrong?” she asked. 

Qi’ra tried not to be taken aback; Rey was always more attuned to emotions when she had been practicing with the Force.

“I don’t know how much more I’m going to be able to teach you,” Qi’ra said. “I know some more advanced exercises, but we might need to look for a teacher for you at some point.” The thought didn’t sit right with her. It made her think of Maul, and of allowing him or someone similar near Rey.

“I don’t want another teacher,” Rey said.

“Or a holocron,” Qi’ra said, irritated that the thought hadn’t occurred to her sooner. They’d been hard to come by, with the Republic cutting down on the trade of Sith artifacts and Jedi artifacts getting scooped up by treasure hunters and true believers. And even better, Qi’ra had three that she’d collected over the years, stored in a cache of hers on Reas III. 

“What’s a holocron?” Rey asked.

“It’s an artifact that stores information,” Qi’ra said. “The Sith and the Jedi used to use them, way back before the Empire.”

“Where do we get one?”

“We’re going to get mine from Reas III,” Qi’ra said. She would have to refresh herself on the information they contained, and ensure that she could teach it to Rey, but that would be little trouble. Or at least, little trouble compared to finding someone with more training and convincing them to work for her.

“Now, get back to work,” Qi’ra told Rey, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t want to see you slacking.”

* * *

When she looked back on the incident later, Qi’ra would kick herself for not seeing it coming. The signs had all been there, but she’d let her guard down.

It started like this: Qi’ra was double-checking the finances of Crimson Dawn, and a particular set of numbers caught her attention— nothing more incriminating than usual, but certainly worrying. Something was off with the bribes from the Meridian Sector. 

Enric had been in charge of those. Perhaps he had overlooked something. 

Qi’ra took her holopad in hand and walked toward the control center. She was dressed casually, by her own standards, as she hadn’t expected any more meetings for the rest of the evening; despite that, the boots she wore still clicked on the floor with every step she took. 

Enric, Trinna, and Hyrran all looked surprised at her entrance. That was concerning; perhaps Qi’ra had been growing too predictable. 

She tapped on the suspicious numbers on the holopad. “Explain.”

For a brief moment, he seemed to be searching for an explanation. But the lost expression on his face was quickly replaced by an unreadable mask— an accomplishment Qi’ra would have congratulated him on, if it weren’t being used against her.

Then he spoke, and all thoughts of congratulations went out of her head completely. 

“I kept it,” he said. He pulled a blaster on Qi’ra, and Hyrran and Trinna copied his actions. “We’ve been talking, you know. It seems like you’ve gotten off-track since you brought that kid on board. Lost sight of what you were doing.”

Qi’ra wondered when she’d gotten reckless enough to walk around her ship without a weapon, and cursed herself for getting so comfortable. There was a chance she could disarm them with the Force— but could she disarm all three of them at once, before they shot her? It was a maneuver she’d only pulled off once or twice before, in the heat of anger.

Instead, she fell back on her most potent weapon: her tongue.

“Our operations have grown more than ever in the last few years,” Qi’ra said evenly. “We are as profitable as we were during the height of the Empire, and you know as well as I do that the _Republic_ isn’t looking the other way.”

“The only thing you care about anymore is that— that— _brat_ ,” Hyrran spat. “What kind of leader puts her kid ahead of the operation?”

Qi’ra didn’t bother to react to the implication that Rey was her kid. “She’s going to be the leader of Crimson Dawn someday,” she said instead. “Her training is paramount.”

“That’s another thing!” Trinna exclaimed, gesturing with her blaster. “Why _her_? You just picked up some brat out of the middle of nowhere and decide she’s gonna be the next leader?”

“You think anyone around here is going to answer to some snot-nosed brat?” Enric asked again.

Qi’ra hadn’t let herself worry about that; it was too far in the future. But it was clear that maybe she should have. Moreover, maybe she shouldn’t have grown so complacent about the threats close to her.

“You thought that one of you would succeed me,” Qi’ra said, looking from one of her subordinates to the other. It hadn’t been a bad assumption; she’d hand-picked each of them and promoted them to her side. But… “You overestimate yourselves. Not a single one of you has the potential I see in Rey.”

This was too much for Enric. He pulled the trigger, and Qi’ra tried to dive out of the way before it hit her. She wasn’t quite fast enough— it was just about to graze her side, and then—

It stopped.

Qi’ra stared at the blaster bolt, hanging in mid-air. _She_ wasn’t powerful enough to do that. But there was someone on the _Daybreak_ who was.

Gathering her wits, she rolled away before the blaster bolt could hit her. She concentrated, reached out in the Force, and quickly disarmed all three conspirators. 

“You—” Trinna began, staring wide-eyed at Qi’ra.

Qi’ra smirked. “I’m disappointed. I thought I taught all of you better than to underestimate your enemy.” She held a hand out. “Rey?”

Rey— covered in engine grease as usual— scrambled out of her hiding place in one of the vents and to Qi’ra’s side. Qi’ra could tell she wanted to say something, but that would have to wait. Qi’ra had traitors to deal with, first.

“It’s a shame,” Qi’ra said. “You three were my favorites.”

She pulled one of the blasters toward herself. She took a breath, steadying her hands, and shot three times.

The bodies would have to be dealt with later. She’d have to find replacements for them— and she wouldn’t make the same mistake next time, of trusting too much in a lack of ambition.

But for now, she led Rey back to their shared quarters. 

“I’m sorry,” Rey said.

“What are you sorry for?” Qi’ra asked. “If you hadn’t been there, I would have gotten hurt.” Or worse, but she didn’t say that aloud.

“They were mad at you because of me.” Rey sniffed, wiping a grimy hand across her face. “And you had to shoot them.”

It occurred to Qi’ra that, while Rey had seen Qi’ra shoot people before, none of them had been people that she’d known. Watching three people she’d known for years threaten her guardian and then be killed in return— that was probably affecting, in some way.

Qi’ra knelt down, right there in the corridor. It was horribly undignified, but some things couldn’t be helped. 

“Come here,” she said. Rey obediently moved a bit closer, and Qi’ra placed her hands on Rey’s shoulders. 

“They were mad because they didn’t understand,” Qi’ra said. “They didn’t see what I see in you, and they thought they could do a better job than either one of us. But if that were true, _they_ would have walked out of that room alive.”

Rey looked up, her eyes meeting Qi’ra’s. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Qi’ra said. “Besides, you did an excellent job stopping that blaster bolt.” She ruffled Rey’s hair, regardless of the grease and grime coating it. “We’re going to have to step up your lessons, kid.”

Rey threw her arms around Qi’ra, clinging tightly. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt,” she mumbled into Qi’ra’s neck.

“Well,” Qi’ra said, wrapping her arms around Rey, “I’m glad we have each other’s backs, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot to add this originally, but I'd like to give credit to [this](https://twitter.com/DelilahSDawson/status/1328727579122143233) thread for inspiring the scenes involving Qi'ra making jewelry.


End file.
